


Happiness

by yeaka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 05:04:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3755458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver gets a warm memory and a hot surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happiness

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its contents, and I'm not making any money off this.

He’s the last off the pitch as usual, because Percy’s working late—like he is every Merlin-damn day of the week—and so long as that’s off the table, Quidditch is all Oliver wants. He soars through the crisp air alone, doing twists and turns for nothing but the feel of it, running over different plays and strategies he’ll spread to the rest of the team come Monday. It’d be easier to fly without all the official team gear, the padding and the cape, but it reminds him that he’s _achieved his dream_ , so he keeps it all on. He zooms around the home field until he’s breathless and too sweaty even for his own nose. The feeling of the grass crushing under his boots when he lands is as exhilarating as it always is. 

He walks to the small building at the end, divided into locker rooms, showers, and a small conference room with a blackboard full of white chalk. The part he strolls into is the locker room, where he’s already got the front padding pulled off and ready to place over the bench. 

He drops it instead, because the room isn’t empty like it’s supposed to be. Oliver’s jaw drops open in surprise, and only innate instinct to always treasure his broom stops him from dropping that too. 

Percy’s sitting against his locker. As soon as he spots Oliver, he shuts the book he was reading, puts it down and pushes his glasses up his nose, lifting to his feet. He isn’t wearing a thing but those glasses and familiar red-gold socks—the standard Hogwarts issue ones that proudly boast Gryffindor colours. It takes Oliver a second to notice the folded blanket and basket on the bench, and as soon as he does, his eyes snap straight back to Percy, all pale skin and fiery freckles, thin hips and long limbs. He stands somewhat awkwardly with his arms across his chest, his cock flaccid but very much exposed. His thighs keep clenching together, as though he wants to hide himself but is deliberately standing on display. 

Oliver means to ask what the hell is going on—Percy _never_ misses work, not even for their anniversary, which already passed without nearly so scrumptious a greeting—but instead he marches over. He places his broom on the bench. His arm automatically loops around Percy’s waist, and he pulls his husband flush against his body, grinding his own crotch against Percy’s. Quidditch always gives him a partial erection, but Percy expands on that exponentially, and he kisses Percy _hard_. 

Percy kisses him back with a little tongue and scraping teeth, then pulls away to murmur, “I’m sorry I couldn’t get the time off last week, but I’d already booked the time off for a different anniversary.”

Oliver pulls away enough for Percy to see his eyebrows knit together in confusion, though he doesn’t let go of Percy’s hip. A part of him instantly worries—they have a match with the Harpies in a week, and everything else has fallen by the wayside—it’s entirely possible that he forgot something else important. But Percy doesn’t look nearly so fretful as he does before a fight, and he chuckles lightly, “I was hoping to surprise you, since you’re always so good at surprising me with these sort of special events. We haven’t celebrated it before, but I figured since it’s been a round ten years, we should.”

“You’re killing me with suspense,” Oliver says, and then kisses Percy again before he can get an answer, because even after the many years they’ve been together, he never can resist that smile. Percy grins against him and lets Oliver take his fill, their hips starting to rock together as they kiss, until Oliver knows that if he wants an answer, he better get it soon, before they devolve into a panting mess on the floor. 

When he lets Percy’s mouth go, Percy wraps his trim arms around Oliver’s broad shoulders and purrs, “Remember when you achieved your first big dream? When we were children, you got on the Hogwarts Quidditch team, which we both knew you would, even then, and you made captain, and a better one Gryffindor’s never had, and then you won your first cup. In our final year, you lead Gryffindor to its first cup since Charlie left, and if I remember right, you were so happy you came back crying, and couldn’t sleep all night, because you had to tell me every last detail again and again, until I was begging you to get off my bed and take your stupid trophy with you.”

Oliver’s already smiling. He remembers that day like it was yesterday, vivid and minute by minute; it was the best of his life, before marrying Percy and making it onto Puddlemore United. At the time, he didn’t think he’d ever be so happy again. 

But then, of course, he had to go and marry a workaholic that completely understands and supports his Quidditch fanaticism, and it’s definitely worth missing a wedding anniversary here and there, even though his bachelor cake was shaped like a Quidditch cup so even that was technically Quidditch-related. 

Basking in the nostalgia, Oliver mutters, “I can’t believe you remember that.” Percy had come, of course, always did to his games when there wasn’t too big an exam to study for, but Percy’s hardly a natural sports fan. 

Still, Percy rubs his nose against Oliver’s and says, “Of course I did. And I packed champagne for it, so we can have dinner and sex in the middle of the field.” That makes Oliver’s brows nearly hit his hairline—it isn’t often he gets to fool around with his prissy lover in public, and this is probably his favourite place in the world. 

He says, “You’re the fucking best,” and utterly means it.

Percy kisses him again, hands slipping back over his shoulders to run down his front, feeling over his taut abs, hardened from all his practices and games. He takes the signal to let his own palms stray down Percy’s stomach, and he wraps one set of fingers around Percy’s long cock, giving it a little squeeze. Percy gasps into his mouth, and as Oliver dryly pumps it a few times, Percy moans, “Maybe you can relive some of those teenage fantasies you might’ve had, too.”

“After that victory, all I could think about was fucking you with my broom for a whole week,” Oliver admits, knowing how it sounds but too giddy to care. 

Percy just gives him a wry look and says, “Pick a different fantasy.”

So Oliver chuckles and draws out another one—there were so _many_ , especially around that day, when he felt like the champion of the universe with all the Quidditch league right at his doorstep—“How about instead of giving me a giant goblet, my prize was the Head Boy; I won you fair and square, and now I get to do whatever I want to Hogwart’s prized prefect.”

“Anything but put your broom anywhere near my ass,” Percy teases, grinning widely before biting his lip and thrusting his hips into Oliver’s hand. His tone dips in honey to add, “Congratulations, Captain. You’ve won me.”

Oliver doesn’t need any more convincing. He’s starting to leak and doesn’t need to stain another uniform. He twists around to scoop Percy up, one arm beneath his knees and the other against his back, and Percy yelps and latches onto Oliver’s neck. Oliver takes a step towards the bench so Percy can grab the basket and the blanket. 

As Oliver carries Percy to the door, he asks curiously, “Should we be celebrating the day you got hired at the Ministry?”

“I’ve already had you in my office,” Percy replies smoothly, “Though if I ever stay too long after hours and all my coworkers are gone, you’re welcome to show up in just work socks.”

Oliver says, “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

And he does, at least until he gets Percy into the center of the field, and then all he can think about is that day ten years ago, where he finally won that cup and got the courage to ask out Percy Weasley.


End file.
